Sea of Hopelessness

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Perhaps not so tough after all

Today I feel an enormous weight upon my soul. It is hard for me to care about much of anything. I feel as though I am adrift on a sea of hopelessness. I am certain that my circumstances are the cause of a lot of it. Still no job, and no way of meeting March rent. I can’t turn to the same people for help. They can’t afford to support me. I feel resigned to my fate. I also recognize that this is just my mind doing it’s usual thing, focusing on the negative and neglecting the positive. But it doesn’t help a whole lot to recognize this. I think I will get through all this without losing my apartment, but that is just a feeling. I really have no idea what will happen, and I am afraid to be homeless. But enough whining!!

Why even post this? I guess because other people are in the same boat, and it helps to know you are not alone. However, depressed people are avoided like the plague. Nobody wants to get sucked into that sea of hopelessness. I get awfully tired of keeping up the brave face. I get cranky and short tempered. I know I have pissed off at least a couple of people, and that bothers me. I don’t like pissing people off, but I still do it. I guess that is the curse of being human. I had very high ambitions for this blog. Now I am thinking it is taking a toll on my emotional health. At the same time, it is my lifeline. Pacing around trying to come up with some kind of plan for getting a job is exhausting and depressing. I am doing the obvious things, and more. At least my blog gives me a bit of reprieve from the depression. I am genuinely interested in what people have to say, most of the time. Sometimes I just lose patience with precious egos. When my own life is going down the tubes, it is hard for me to be diplomatic. I want to make a genuine difference with my blog and help other bloggers do the same. We need each other. I am not sure it is being too dramatic to say we need each other just to survive.

When I walk outside each day and see people lying on the sidewalk trying to sleep in the freezing cold, I see myself.  It is an outrage that we live in a society that permits this. I consider it outrageous arrogance to allow this homelessness to persist, while enjoying your time at the golf course and spending huge amounts of money on nonsense. It is a crime. But I wonder if I were to win the lottery, if I would be any different. When I read about yet another senseless death of an extremely talented artist like Whitney Houston, it just pushes me a little further out from the shore, into the sea of hopelessness.

Sometimes I feel fearless and like Don Quixote, I am ready to tilt at the windmills. I want to take it all on, be the champion for all the wonderful people that are getting shit on daily by a corrupt, wasteful, and yes I would even say evil, system. There is no love in this fucked up world. That is the credo of the sea of hopelessness, and I gotta tell you it sure feels real. Then I think about the wonderful friends I have, who helped me out with the rent, when I didn’t ask for it. They just did it out of the goodness of their hearts. So I am wrong. I think about the wonderful people who follow my blog, that enjoy what I write. (at least, I assume they enjoy it, I can’t imagine why someone would follow my blog if they didn’t. Unless it was to fuel their anger.) I do provide a bit of a service I suppose, for entertainment at least. So I guess it is just self-pity for me to complain. I come from a family that would not permit self-pity. You were supposed to pull yourself up by the bootstraps. (I never really understood how that works.)  I’ll tell you what worries me about the sea of hopelessness. Once I am adrift in such a sea, I become hard. I become an old, tough bird who doesn’t give a fuck about anything, and that scares me. I see those tough birds all the time, muttering to themselves, kicking the trash cans. (I guess the trash cans committed the offense of not having anything they could eat or sell.) They are so thin, they are essentially a skeleton, barely hanging on to life, and angry as hell. I think of how they will undoubtedly have a sad, bad end. It could be me someday. Ah, yes, more self pity.

So enough of that shit!!! I have picked myself up by my bootstraps, having no idea how I did it, but here I am. My nose is running, my stomach is a little bit upset, but I am alive and ready to take on the world once again! Although I walk along the shore of the sea of hopelessness, I will not get caught up in that vicious undertow. Although everything seems bleak and I have lost my sense of humor, I must carry on. As Scarlett O’Hara said at the end of Gone With The Wind, “Tomorrow is another day!” Boy is that ever redundant! You can feel free to say, “Frankly, Russell I don’t give a damn!” if you want, but I hope you won’t. This is a time when it is far too easy to not give a damn. Life is cheap. Trivial bullshit is king. We need to care. Now, more than ever.

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